


Don't Touch

by dining_alone



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Glove Kink, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Post-TLJ, Virgins Being Virgins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 12:36:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13235874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dining_alone/pseuds/dining_alone
Summary: "Don't touch me," she bit out. "I don't want to feel that again."It was only half true. A part of her desperately wanted to connect with him once more, skin on skin, to sink deep into another sunlit vision. The rest of her—the more practical side—was disgusted by the lie of it all.





	Don't Touch

 

"Don't touch me," she bit out. "I don't want to feel that again."

It was only half true. A part of her desperately wanted to connect with him once more, skin on skin, to sink deep into another sunlit vision. The rest of her—the more practical side—was disgusted by the lie of it all.

Ben, reaching out as though to cup her cheek, froze in place. His jaw tightened and twitched. "Then why did you let me in?"

She didn't have an answer for him.

They stayed like that for a few moments: Rey with her knees pressed to her chest, hugging herself, while Ben knelt opposite her at the foot of the bunk, regarding her with a hungry sort of wariness. Rey knew that he must be light-years away, but the thin mattress still dipped beneath his weight.

Ben opened his mouth, hesitated, then broke the silence, his voice low and hoarse. "What if I left the gloves on?"

Rey imagined what those gloved hands would look like—would _feel_ like—tracing the contours of her naked back. The temperature of the stale air on the Falcon seemed to spike ten degrees.

"Yes," she said, too quickly.

Something suspiciously like a smirk crossed Ben's features, but it was gone in an instant. He stretched his hand out to her again, slower this time. She closed her eyes, felt the soft brush of leather against her cheek. Without thinking, she captured his gloved hand in her bare ones, pressing the knuckles gently to her lips.

She looked up. Ben was staring at her, intent, like she was an image or a phrase he urgently needed to commit to memory.

"Why did you let me in? Why now, after all this time?"

She knew why, but she couldn't tell him. The moment was too fragile, and she was sure it would shatter the moment she put words to it.

"Rey. What do you want?"

She shook her head. Her heart was beating so loudly, she was certain he could hear it. "You already know."

"Say it."

In lieu of an answer, she took his hand and guided it between her legs.

He didn't look nearly as surprised as she imagined he would. "I thought you said not to touch you."

"With the gloves—”

"I know. Are you sure?"

"Are _you_ sure?"

Without warning he surged forward and pinned her down, trapping her wrists at her sides. She was vaguely aware that it should have frightened her, how vulnerable she had made herself, but instead the blood sang in her veins. Their lips were just inches apart.

His expression went from dark and wild to oddly reticent. "I haven't—I’ve never—”

"Neither have I. It doesn't matter, anyway. I can show you." She rose up to her knees and took his hand again, guiding it beneath the waist of her leggings, showing him where to touch, how fast to go, how much pressure to apply.

He wasn't very good at it—he didn’t know her body like she did—but it hardly mattered. She was already wet and _close_. The warm length straining against her hipbone told her that he was in a similar state.

"Ben," she gasped, rocking into him. "Talk to me."

"What do you want me to say?" He sounded wrecked, desperate.

"Tell me what you'd do to me. If we didn't need all this. The gloves."

He drew her to his chest and dragged his clothed erection up the length of her thigh. "I'd pull you on top of me. I'd fuck you so hard you'd see stars."

She glanced past him towards the viewport on the other side of the room and let out a breathless laugh. "I already see stars."

He groaned. "You know what I mean. I'd fuck you until you couldn't remember anything else. Until you couldn't think of anything but me."

That was uncomfortably close to her current reality, and she almost told him so. She was giddy with the impossibility of it all—the connection that bound them, that projected him effortlessly across the galaxy, flesh and blood, right into her tiny little bunk on the Falcon.

The thought fled her mind when she felt two gloved fingers slip roughly inside her, fucking her with a slow, graceless rhythm.

It wasn't good, but it was enough. She clenched around him, shivering, the feeling almost too intense, too sharp.

"Rey," he was saying. "Rey, Rey."

They were so close now, and before she could stop him he brought their mouths together. The kiss was soft and clumsy, and it plunged her headlong into—onto—

 

_—a balcony, overlooking the canopy of a vast forest._

_It was early morning, pale pink on the horizon, and a mist hung low over the treetops. The sun had not yet risen._

_Her shift fluttered in the faint breeze. She pulled the shawl she wore tighter around her shoulders. It was cold, and her feet were bare on the dewy stone, but Rey never tired of the sight in front of her: the sea of green, quiet and still, before the birds and insects and other creatures woke._

_“Come back to bed,” someone said behind her._

_She didn’t have to turn around to know it was him. She would recognize that voice anywhere. But now there was a tenderness to it, an affection that was at once strange and achingly familiar._

_She heard the soft footfalls of his approach before she felt the warmth of him, flush against her back. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his lips to her neck. “Yanesa is taking the students on a hike to the falls today,” he murmured. “We’ve got the whole morning to ourselves.”_

_“What are you suggesting?”_

_He groaned. “Come on, Rey. It’s been so long.”_

_“I was only gone for three days!”_

_“Too long.”_

_She wanted to turn around, to see the man who spoke to her in that low, warm voice, but something made her hesitate. Something wasn’t quite right._

_“Rey,” he said._

_She couldn’t help it. She twisted in his arms and looked up._

_And there was Ben, smiling down at her. It was a genuine smile, one that reached his eyes—not like those cocky, joyless little smirks he had given her on Starkiller and Ahch-To. This version of him was older, but not by much, and there was none of the old tension around his jaw, not a trace of conflict in his eyes._

_Ben took her hand in his and laced their fingers together, holding her gaze. He wasn’t wearing gloves._

_“Come back to bed,” he repeated._

_She wanted to go with him, but something still wasn’t right. In fact, something was very wrong. This wasn’t the Ben Solo she knew, no matter how much she wanted him to be._

_“Liar,” Rey whispered._

_Ben’s expression didn’t change. It was as though he hadn’t heard her at all._

_Because it wasn’t really him. Because he wasn’t really there—and neither was she._

_Rey wrenched her hand out of his grasp._

The vision dissolved around her, and suddenly she was back on the Falcon, across the bunk from Ben—the real one, this time. He was rubbing at his right hand like she had wounded him there, staring at her with a mixture of hurt and disbelief. Rey closed her eyes and was disgusted to feel a tear roll down her cheek. How could she have been so stupid, so _weak_ as to fall for such an obvious lie not once, but _twice_?

“Go away,” she said, failing to keep the tremor out of her voice.

“Rey—” he began, moving closer to her.

She scooted away until her back hit the wall. “I told you not to touch me,” she spat. “Now leave me alone.”

He didn’t. “Rey, I saw—”

“I don’t care what you saw! None of that was real!”

“How do you know?”

Rey opened her eyes and met his gaze with a glare. “Because you already made your choice. And I made mine.”

All the hurt in Ben’s expression suddenly congealed into a cruel grin, and Rey’s stomach turned at how little he resembled the man from her vision.

“Have you?” he asked with a treacherous softness. “Made your choice, I mean? Because I seem to remember you inviting me inside your head just a few minutes ago. Wanting me to touch you. Wanting to know how I’d _fuck_ you.”

Rey couldn’t remember hating herself more than she did in that moment, the now-cold wetness between her legs a sick reminder that he was telling the truth. She curled in on herself, burying her face in her knees the way she used to when she would wake from a nightmare, alone in her little hideout on Jakku.

“Go away,” she whispered again.

“You’ve made your choice,” he continued. The statement would have sounded matter-of-fact if not for the way his voice cracked. “And tonight you chose me. You’ll always choose me, because I can give you what no one else can. And when you realize that—when you finally admit it to yourself—that’s when you’ll come find me.”

Rey couldn’t tell if he was trying to convince her or himself.

“Liar.”

“Rey—” He sounded almost apologetic.

“Leave me alone.”

She didn’t have to look up to know he was gone.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy new year! I'm czerka-shill on tumblr now; feel free to drop by and bother me!


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